Red Red Regret
by ArouraLeona
Summary: Though his world has changed, fallen apart, he - and his friends - have survived. Now the question is, can they find happiness, and can Hak allow that for himself? In the beginning, all he wanted was THEIR happiness, but now? Now, as Yona grows and changes? What does he want? What does he think he deserves? Hak-centric Some language. Oneshot.


Red Red Regret

All he wanted was for them to be happy. All three of them. If possible. But it couldn't be. Of course, it couldn't be. Not at all possible. They were too twisted in knots. But, if he kept his happiness back, if he made their happiness his, then that would be alright.

It would be okay.

Better than okay. An orphan who made his way, through luck and kindness and skill, to be one of the six most powerful men in the country? So much better than okay.

But sometimes, some days, some moments he had a thought: _Don't let it change._

Impossible.

Impossible.

Impossible.

And a time or two – a terrible, terrible time or two – he wished to be happy. Him. His own self. He wished to be happy.

He wished that he be the one to be happy.

_I want to have the happiness they will have. I want that. I want that. I want that!_

Fate threw that selfish wish into his face. Standing between a weeping young woman and a kind – _HA! _– man with blood-stained cheeks, he could hear destiny cackle.

He had thought so much of peace. He was no pure idealist, but he thought of peace as something to be desired. To be worked for. He had seen a man without violence hold a blade in his hand and bleed for the sake of peace.

But those bastards had a point; he had spent too long in the soft safety of the castle. Assholes. Murderers. Traitors. Betrayers.

_Liars_.

But they had a point. He didn't know enough. He wasn't as naïve as Yona. He wasn't as young as Yona. He wasn't as untarnished. He wasn't as protected. He wasn't as carefree.

_He should have known_. _He should have seen_.

He didn't. He hadn't.

His king died. He had left his king; he had left his king and his princess in the reach of a killer.

Nothing made sense.

How could this be the same world? The same world he had watched from dawn to bloody treason.

"_...you're on my side?"_

It didn't matter how strong she became as the weeks and months came and went. She could surround herself with legendary warriors, master every weapon made, call forth the obedience of nations, take on the power of God; it would not matter.

"_...you're on my side?"_

He would hear her in his sleep. In the seconds before waking.

"_...you're on my side?"_

"_Hak, you're on my side?"_

She was always the first thing he looked for as he sat up, those words echoing in his heart.

_Yes_, he wanted to say. Every morning. He wanted to say to her, _Yes. I'm on your side. Yours, and no other._

Over time, the place inside of him where he stored his care for her had grown. Continued to grow. She had been the most important person to him; he had made her simple existence his duty. His every-day life. A sweet, somewhat vain girl filled to the brim with energy and joy. He didn't love her, but there was no one in the world who held more of his heart.

All he wanted was for her to be happy. Happy with the man _she _loved. A man who also deserved happiness. Hak wished him happiness. That kind, gentle man he'd known since childhood. Wished them happiness. A man who cared so much for her; a man she loved.

A man with blood on his cheeks.

No. No happiness for the three of them. Not that happiness they dreamed of as children. The happiness they'd dreamed of that very week. That very day. That very night.

"_...you're on my side?"_

Yes. Yes. Yes. Always.

With every passing day, she grew into a woman alien to her own upbringing. That energy found new outlets. That joy tempered with new awareness. That naiveté torn away to reveal a woman capable of seeing the world for what it was, and face it. Her resilience, her stubbornness empowered her.

Asshole. Asshole. _Asshole_. Took her happiness and left her with a need. A need that made her into a better person. A need that turned her into someone he could almost worship. Someone he could love.

Bastard. Murderer.

Liar. Betrayer.

Had a point.

Bloody cheeks in front of him, and her weeping at his back. Those empty eyes. Blank. Blank.

Blank.

Liquid.

Kindled.

Ignited.

A fire, burning. Blazing.

"_I'm leaving this place. Come with me."_

"_You're the only one who must be by my side."_

"_I don't want to die helplessly … I don't want to lose you."_

"_If it's to protect you..."_

"_Hak, they said I was pretty!"_

"_I'm leaving this place. Come with me._

"_I want strength … by all means."_

"_I won't forget."_

"_Have you heard him? He said I was a good woman."_

"_I like you! Marry me!_"

What? Oh, wait... no. That last one was Kalgan. Kalgan or his own twisted imagination. Because now he had a chance for that happiness, that stupid, selfish happiness he had wished for with his darker heart. A chance for happiness with a girl who shouldn't be the woman she was. Who shouldn't live the life she now lived.

Who shouldn't be the hero she had become.

Twisted in knots, all three of them. All in knots. Impossible for it to remain the same. Happy as they were. Impossible for all three to be happy.

Happy as they wanted, playing in the snow.

That happiness. Dead. Dead on a palace floor.

A chance at happiness.

A different happiness.

A shadowed happiness.

Beneath every word he spoke and every movement he made, he seethed. Happiness? Happiness?! At the cost of the life of a man, a man he respected. A man who wanted peace. A man who...

Happiness at the hands of a man with blood-stained cheeks?

Asshole.

Happiness on the road. In the woods and mountains. On the barren plains.

Happiness facing armies.

Happiness guarding borders.

Happiness watching her fight. Cry. Struggle. Struggle like a human broken, and repaired.

It excited him, the possibilities of his happiness. Their happiness, colored red. Red born, red stained, red foretold.

He hated that she didn't hate him. He hated that he could touch her, would touch her, did touch her. And she leaned in. Her support.

"_Don't worry about your support_," he had told her, but she did anyway. She worried and she cared and she gave herself to the world. Gave herself to everyone and everything. But from him? From him she took. She demanded. She _trusted_. To her, they had not changed. He was still her childhood friend. Important. Valued. _Liked_, if not loved.

"_If Hak can't come along, then I don't want this!"_

He remembered the night tragedy struck.

He remembered the night his king died.

He remembered the night.

He remembered her tears.

He remembered her dirty clothes.

He remembered her messy, red hair.

He remembered her question.

"_Hak, you're on my side?_"

No. No, he wasn't. If he were on her side, he wouldn't be filled with a bile called _happiness_.

_Thankfulness_.

_Eagerness._

Asshole.

Traitor.

Murderer.

Betrayer.

Liar.

Who did he mean when he thought those words?

All he wanted was for them to be happy.

Impossible for things not to change. Impossible to stay in that room where they were together, hand-in-hand. Impossible for happiness to be now what it was when they were children.

All he wanted was for them to be happy.

And they were. As much as anyone could be. They were.

_XXXXX_

**Author's Note**_**: **_I thought with the anime starting, some English-language fics would pop up, but no dice. So … here we go. Nothing extraordinary, but it fills what might be a need?

Some references (vague) to non-translated chapters, but nothing that could be construed as a spoiler.


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